


Unexpected Outcome

by Somniare



Series: Phrase Challenge [1]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somniare/pseuds/Somniare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James heard the crack, and flinched as a projectile whooshed past his ear.  <i>That was too bloody close.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Outcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wendymr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymr/gifts).



James heard the crack, and flinched as a projectile whooshed past his ear.  _That was too bloody close._

In front of him, Lewis fell, the back of his head a blaze of scarlet.

“ROBBIE!”

James’s attempt to go to his Governor was thwarted by Innocent.  Somehow keeping pace with James’s long strides, she moved across his path.

“MOVE IT, JAMES!  HE’S DOWN!  KEEP RUNNING!”

“Ma’am!”

She grabbed his arm, forcing him to continue up the hill and leave his fallen friend.

“I’m not losing both of you.  Not here.  Not like this!”  The words were strained, coming between heaved breaths.

James swiped his arm across his eyes, clearing the dirt and angry tears.

Another shot whizzed by.

Julie Lockhart fell, struck squarely between her shoulder blades.

James put his head down and ran for all he was worth, leaving behind friends and colleagues, cursing the events that had brought him to this.

A concrete bunker loomed over the crest of the hill.  Sanctuary.  Time slowed.  James pulled his weapon from the holster across his chest, and in one fluid movement, turned and fired off three rounds.  He dropped the pistol and charged for safety.

*****

James hugged his knees close to his chest.  The cinder block he was sat on sent a chill through his bones, but it was dryer than the ground.  He’d run.  His Governor – his closest friend – had fallen, and James had left him lying face down in rotting leaves and God knows what else.

Innocent was perched on another block beside him.

Neither had spoken since their team had taken shelter.  They sat in huddles of two and three, whispering amongst themselves.

James glanced at his watch.  Had it really only been thirty minutes since this debacle began?  Two officers down.  Two bloody good people.  Others in the room had also taken blows.  James’s shoulder ached where a projectile had grazed him.  Whose bloody senseless idea had it been to come here?

He must have spoken aloud.

“Peterson’s.”

_It can’t be._ James’s head rose slowly.  He blinked at the source of the voice, a silhouette filling the open bunker doorway.

“Robbie?”  It came out on a faint exhale.  James unfolded his body and stood as Lewis walked towards him.  “I thought you were dead.”

Lewis tugged at his ear.  “It was only a bit of paint.”

“It hit you at 300 kilometres per hour.  You dropped like a stone.”

“Good thing I was wearing a helmet.”  Lewis grinned unexpectedly.  “It was worth it though.”

“Worth it?”  James huffed.

“We won.  It was an illegal shot, so Peterson was disqualified, and when you fired off those shots, you took out three of the other team, including their not-so-illustrious leader.  Bloody nice piece of shooting.”

“I did?”  James had had no idea his prayer shots had been successful.  _Including their leader?_   “I hit Peterson?”

Lewis chuckled.  “Square in the chest.  He landed flat on his arse in a muddy puddle.”

“Did you say we won?”  Innocent brushed against James’s arm.

“Yes, ma’am.  Nine hits to seven.”

“Right, everyone.”  Innocent turned to their paint and mud smeared team.  “We’re out of here.  Meet at The Bear at seven; drinks are on DI Peterson.”  There was a subdued yet genuine cheer.  She turned back to Lewis and James as the other officers shuffled out chattering.  “I don’t want to put a damper on things, Robbie, but I would like you to get someone to look at your head, preferably now.”

“Ma’am–”

“Helmet or no helmet, Inspector, you took a severe blow to the head.  There’s a very good reason it’s an illegal shot.”

“I’ll drive you to A&E.”  James gave Innocent a grateful smile.

Lewis scowled.  “Fine.  On one condition.”

“Go ahead,” Innocent responded.

“This better be the last bloody time Peterson gets to organise the team building exercise.  ‘Paintball battle.  Two teams.  It’ll be fun.’”  He mocked Peterson’s overenthusiastic endorsement.  “Fun my arse the way he wanted to play it.”

“Consider it done.”

*****

James handed Lewis the beer and flopped onto the couch beside him. 

“Admit it; you didn’t want to look at Peterson’s sour face in the pub any more than I did.”

“No.”  Lewis took a drink.  “But I wouldn’t have minded rubbing the loss in.”

“There is that.”  James leant into Lewis’s shoulder.  “I’m glad your head’s okay.”

“Lot of fuss and nonsense over nothing.  No-one dragged Julie off to A&E.”

“Gurdip did; I saw them when you went in for your x-ray.  He was worried sick about her.  She was bruised but otherwise fine.”

“Poor Gurdip; it’s not easy when someone you’re involved with gets hurt.”

James tilted his head curiously.  “So you do know they’ve been seeing each other for a few months?”

“Give me some credit; I am a detective, though you would have had to be blind not to have seen it.  They’ve tried to be discreet, but they’re not as good at hiding their feelings as some I know.”

“Oh.  Really?”  James schooled his face into as neutral an expression as possible.

Lewis looked down at the bottle in his hands and spoke softly.  “How long?”

“How long what?”

“James.”  Lewis turned his head slightly until one eye was looking directly at James.  “You called me ‘Robbie’.  Twice.”

“I was in shock.”

Lewis wiped one hand on his jeans, leaving a damp streak from the condensation off the bottle, and then reached over and took hold of James’s hand.

“Sir?”  James cringed when the single syllable came out as a squeak.

“What happened to ‘Robbie’?”

“I… er…”

Lewis continued softly.  “If I’ve got this wrong, say something.”

James took several quick breaths.  “No.  Not wrong.  But… You’re not…  You were never supposed to know,” he finished with a murmur.

“I didn’t until today.  I didn’t understand how I felt until I heard you cry out.”

“How you felt…?”

“You’re me best mate, James, I’ve known that for ages, but you’re more than that.  I just didn’t realise how much more.”

“But you’re not…”  James wanted to pinch himself to be certain he hadn’t been the one who’d taken a paintball to the back of the head.

“Never looked at anyone – man or woman – after I met Val.  Before then though… but that wasn’t something you made known in 1970s Newcastle, especially if you were in the police.”

“Oh.”  _That was…unexpected._ “Oh!”   _That changes everything._   “Oh, shit.”

“Don’t like the sound of that.”  Lewis squeezed James’s hand gently and James returned the gesture.

“Innocent.  She would have heard me both times.  If she…”

“Plenty of time to worry about herself later, once we figure out what this means for us, where we go from here?”

“Really?  You want to…you and me?  I thought you and Dr Hobson would…”

Lewis was shaking his head.  “We’re friends, but it’s never going to be anything more, and we – me and Laura – we both know that.”

James covered their clasped hands with his other hand.  “So.  Where do we go from here?”

“I’m pretty certain I asked you first.”  A lop-sided smile.

James released a soft breath and raised his hand to cradle Lewis’s cheek.  “If I may be so bold?”

Lewis nodded, his stubble rasping against James’s palm, sending a shiver down James’s spine.  As James leant in, Lewis’s eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted against James’s hand. 

Their lips met and Lewis immediately deepened the kiss, with one hand sliding around the back of James’s neck.

James’s last coherent thought was that he might quite possibly be able to forgive Peterson for being a complete prat.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "I thought you were dead."


End file.
